


Midsummer's Eve

by bironic



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bestiality, Bondage, Dubious Consent, F/M, Nonconathon Treat, Object Insertion, Original Character(s), Other, Unicorns, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bironic/pseuds/bironic
Summary: Each year, the villagers offer one of their own in exchange for Hestion's protective magic. Tonight's sacrifice lay beautiful and terrified in the clearing.
Relationships: Unicorn/Virgin Sacrifice
Comments: 3
Kudos: 85
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Midsummer's Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nonconamod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonconamod/gifts).



> For the prompt: Unicorn noncons Virgin Sacrifice (m/f)

Hestion stepped into the clearing on midsummer's eve. This year's sacrifice lay splayed on the forest floor, naked as her naming day, her hands and feet tied to the ritual stakes aligned to the north, south, east and west.

A woman this time, then. She made for a pleasing offer: young and at the peak of her health and beauty, as was his due for protecting the village. This one had intriguing streaks of early silver in her long, black hair, left loose among the leaves and pine needles. Her skin evoked the golden brown of acorns; her dark eyes caught the last light of the sun on this, the longest day of the year.

Though it remained forbidden for former sacrifices to speak to others of their experiences, he wondered if any had been involved in choosing her, given the way her features echoed Hestion's coloring as well as the forest around them.

He held his head high and shook out his mane. The woman took a gratifyingly fearful breath.

Hestion came forward until he stood with his forelegs on either side of her waist. He waited.

The woman stared up at him with wide eyes. "Great…" she began. Her voice broke. She cleared her throat and tried again, shaky but clear. "Great Unicorn of the Wood. We hope you accept this offering in thanks for your healing medicine, your wards against pestilence and your powers of fertility."

Hestion dipped his head in acknowledgement. Let the ceremony begin, then.

He nuzzled one small breast, savoring the delicate human scents of it. Some of the more enthusiastic sacrifices over the years had seemed to enjoy the velvety texture of his nose and mouth against the hairless regions of their skin. But when he pinched the soft nipple between his lips, tears slid down the sides of her face.

He licked the nipple instead, curious whether it would soothe her. It seemed not: She blinked away more tears and took a shuddering breath.

No matter. Trepidation—even unwillingness—brought its own pleasure.

When he had had his fill of her young breasts, the nipples now dark and erect, Hestion took a step back and dragged his nose down her belly to the curls at the apex of her spread legs. She was, unsurprisingly, unaroused, her unexplored contours mostly hidden from him. They would not remain so for long.

He lapped at her. The woman twisted and pulled at her bonds. 

He decided to toy with her; he raised his head.

"Forgive me," she managed. "I m-mean no offense." He blinked down at her, wishing to hear more of her supplications. "Please—please don't punish our village for my shortcomings. I'll do better. I will." She sniffed and forced her body to relax.

Satisfied, he returned to her. The tastes of salt and musk grew stronger with his attentions. Soon enough, as the aphrodisiac in his saliva worked its magic, she dampened and furled open. Soon she was making soft noises that had nothing to do with fear.

He nudged and licked and nipped and played with her until she writhed.

"Please," she moaned. He wondered whether she understood what it was she yearned for. "Oh, please."

Only when she shook with need did he pull back, lower his head and find her entrance with the blunt tip of his horn.

With a slow but unforgiving slide, he pushed it into her.

The woman gave a desperate whine. Swirl by swirl, he pressed forward until she could fit no more. 

His horn tingled with the blood of her maidenhead. The clutch of her inner muscles transformed the sensation into a full-body shudder.

His shivers jostled the horn within her. She tightened around him with a cry. Triggered by the rhythmic convulsions of her climax, his horn detached.

The ritual was complete.

The woman lay panting. Hestion rubbed the itchy nub where his horn used to be against her thigh. 

When he was done, he stood tall once more. With pride he surveyed her disheveled body, the horn protruding from the now-glistening strip between her legs.

"Th-thank you for this precious gift, Great Unicorn," she said.

He whickered. It was time to take his leave. The villagers would fetch her before long, and Hestion wished to find one of his kin to address his own kindled arousal.

Then he would seek a patch of sweetgrass, preferably one beaded with dew in the moonlight: his favorite. After all, he needed to eat well to grow out his horn for next year's ceremony.


End file.
